Hearts Aglow

by Tracie Peterson

  “We’d be happy to help any way we can,” Mother told him. “We’ve got plenty of smoked pork we could share.”

  “That’s mighty good of you,” Mr. Perkins replied. “I guess the worst of it is my girls. They want to leave right away and go stay with their grandparents back East. I can’t say as I blame them, but that, too, will cost money.”

  “Perhaps they can be encouraged to bide their time here and be useful to your recovery.”

  “I’d like to see that happen, but I didn’t do right by those gals. They’re spoiled and used to havin’ their own way. Not like your Deborah.” He gave her a smile. “I’d be mighty proud if my girls were half as industrious as you.”

  Deborah was surprised by the praise and felt uneasy. “Tell us what’s happening with the mill,” she encouraged.

  Mr.Perkins shrugged. “Nothing, unfortunately. Like I said, I’ve ordered a few parts in order to start back up on a small level. Mostly I need to cut lumber to rebuild. I have the logs in the millpond and figure to at least get a frame up in order to start over.”

  “Sounds wise,” G.W. said. “What can we do to help? Do you want another load of logs right away?”

  “That’s why I’ve come out here, actually.” He put the coffee aside. “I can’t pay to bring in more logs just yet. I wanted to let you know that straightaway so you could sell your harvest to one of the other sawmills. I’m sure they’ll take them in Lufkin.”

  G.W.nodded. “Probably will. I’ll talk it over with Uncle Arjan.”

  “I hate doing this to you. I know you’re counting on the income, just as I was counting on the mill to provide for me.” Mr. Perkins sat back and shook his head. “My partners are set to arrive tomorrow. I suppose they will help me to assess the matter. I’m hoping they’ll be willing to pour more capital into the business to see it rebuilt quickly. That would be to their benefit as much as mine.”

  Deborah frowned as she thought of Stuart Albright having any say in the welfare of Perkinsville.

  “They certainly got word quickly,” Mother commented.

  “They don’t actually know about the fire just yet. They’d already wired prior to the storm to say they were headin’ back to Perkinsville.”

  “I reckon they’ll be surprised to hear the news,” G.W. said. “Especially since they were countin’ on the mill to help them make their fortune.”

  “I’m deeply concerned. I’m trying to get as much accomplished as I can before they arrive, but the cleanup is still in progress. What few men I could afford to keep on are doin’ their best to clear out the debris so we can get to rebuildin’ right away.”

  “Do you know yet what started the fire?” G.W. asked. “Mother said it was rumored to be lightnin’.”

  Mr.Perkins looked up with a frown. “It wasn’t lightning. I saw no sign of a strike. Fire started inside. Someone had to set it.”

  “Set it?” Mother asked in horror. “Surely not!”

  “Some say the blacks set it as a means of avenging the deaths and beatings they’ve had in their number. Others say it was whites who done it – unhappy with me because I hired blacks instead of them. I can’t say who exactly is to blame, but someone did it on purpose.”

  Mother shook her head in disbelief. “But no one benefits from such a tragedy. The entire town was dependent upon the mill for its existence.”

  “Well, someone figured to benefit somehow,” Mr. Perkins replied. “Ain’t never known a man to do much of anything without there bein’ a benefit to it.”

  “We need to let Arjan know the situation as soon as possible.” Mother looked to G.W. “I know it’s nearly evening, but he should be here.”

  “I’ll ride out to the camp where he’s working,” G.W. told them. “I’ll bring some more food for them and let Arjan know what’s happened.” He got to his feet. “Do you want us to travel to town tomorrow?”

  Mr. Perkins considered this for a moment. “I suppose it would be best. Albright and Longstreet should be here.”

  Deborah hoped that Jael would also travel with them. She couldn’t imagine her friend allowing them to leave her behind – especially once they became aware of the hurricane and storms. She would want to see Deborah and Lizzie and hear all the news. Besides, Mr. Perkins said they’d settled their affairs. That surely meant they were making the move to Houston as planned.

  “Mother, I’ll bring Uncle Arjan back as soon as possible. It’s late though, so we might just stay in camp tonight.”

  “I think that would be wise,” Mother replied. “I don’t want you pushing yourself too hard. You’ve done a wonderful job of keeping the supplies going to the camp, but I know your leg still gives you problems from time to time. There are also the hogs to contend with.”

  He bent down and kissed her head. “I’ll be fine. Don’t look for us until mornin’. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I reckon I’d better let Lizzie know what’s happening.”

  Deborah waited until he’d gone to voice her opinion. “It seems to me that the sooner the mill is back up and operating, the better for everyone. You mentioned folks were moving out – heading elsewhere for work.”

  Mr. Perkins nodded. “Some were leaving to be with family members who were hurt by the storm. Others were just needin’ to keep wages comin’ in to provide for their family. I hate to see them go; trained men are so much more valuable to me than greenhorns. When I do get the mill up and running, I’ll be delayed as I train the new fellas.”

  “Well, hopefully we can work together,” Mother said. “I’m sure God will provide.”

  Mr.Perkins picked up his coffee cup. “That’s my prayer.” He finished the contents and put the cup back down. Getting to his feet, he squared his shoulders. “I don’t mind telling you, though, I’m pretty discouraged. I can’t figure out why anyone would do a thing like this. I’ve tried to be a fair employer – always generous with my workers. I didn’t figure I had any trouble with them.”

  Mother stood and Deborah did likewise. “It probably wasn’t one of the workers,” her mother told him. “A worker wouldn’t risk losing his job. I’m confident this must have come from someone outside the company. Perhaps it’s even the work of the White Hand of God. After all, you employ former slaves. Someone may be trying to prove a point.”

  “Yeah, but they’re usually good about leavin’ notes around after their deeds. This just doesn’t add up.”

  “Let me get your hat for you,” Mother said, moving into the foyer.

  “I know this is gonna be hard on your family, as well,” Mr.Perkins said as they stood by the front door. “I only hope Arjan and G.W. won’t have trouble gettin’ somebody to take their logs.”

  Mother smiled. “I’m sure they won’t. Especially now with Texans working to rebuild the damaged areas, lumber will be in demand. Don’t you fret about us, Zed. We’ll be just fine. Please tell Rachel that if she needs anything – anything at all – she only has to call on me.”

  Deborah and her mother followed him outside and watched from the porch as he mounted and rode away. For a moment, neither said a word. Then Deborah voiced what had been on her mind the entire time.

  “What if Stuart had something to do with this?”

  Mother’s concerned expression seemed to offer an unspoken question. Deborah hurried to explain. “You remember that Jael was certain he meant us harm.”

  “But why burn down your own investment – especially since it won’t really hurt us at all? We’ll simply load out the logs and send them elsewhere.”

  “I don’t know,” Deborah said, shaking her head. “It just seems like the kind of hateful thing he might do. I know it doesn’t make any sense, but I can’t help feeling there is something to this that involves him.”

  “I can’t imagine it, but I suppose we shall know in due time.”

  Mother looked toward the plum trees. “We’d best get the fruit into the kitchen. I don’t want to lose any more to the birds.”

  Night fell and it seemed particularly quiet wi
thout the men. Deborah and Lizzie put the babies to bed and found their way out to the front room, where Mother and Sissy mended shirts.

  “Emmy and Rutger sleeping?” Mother asked as the girls joined them.

  “They were quite worn out from their adventurous day,” Lizzie told her. “I had them on a blanket in the middle of the floor while I worked on some new clothes for them. They seemed quite captivated with the new location.”

  Mother smiled and refocused on her work. “Hard to believe they are nearly three months old. Time goes by so quickly when they’re small. Seems like just yesterday, Deborah was a baby.”

  “Shore do,” Sissy said, nodding and rocking. Deborah could see that she’d been busy fixing a tear in one of Arjan’s shirts.

  “It’s getting late,” Deborah said suppressing a yawn. “I suppose I’ll head up to bed.”

  “We should all get some sleep,” Mother said, tying off her thread. “I’ve a feeling when the men get back, we’ll have a busy day.”

  Deborah couldn’t help thinking it wouldn’t be busy as much as troublesome. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Good night, sweetheart.” Mother got to her feet. “Come on, Sissy. We need to call it a night. I’ll take this lamp, and you get the other.”

  The black woman put her mending in the basket at her feet and slowly rose. Deborah looked to Lizzie. “If you need help in the night, come get me.”

  Lizzie nodded. “I should be all right. G.W.’s never that helpful in the wee hours, anyway. He sleeps like a log whether the twins are fussing or cooing.”

  Mother laughed. “Rutger was the same way. Never did see a man who could sleep through such noise. The whole house could have fallen down around him, and he would have slept on.”

  Deborah readied for bed and slipped between the sheets, thinking of her father and days gone by. Her father would often take her on rides through the forest. She’d sit in front of him on his favorite horse and listen to him talk about the land.

  “Land is good,” he told her, “but family is better. God gave us the earth to tend, but our families to love. Never forget that.”

  “I won’t,” Deborah whispered to the air. “I won’t forget any of the things you taught me, Papa.”

  An image of Christopher came to mind, and she couldn’t seem to push it aside. He was all she wanted in a husband – everything except here and willing. He’d broken the courtship without even speaking to her. That served to anger as much as grieve her. She could never marry a man who refused to listen to her heart on matters.

  “Of course, marriage isn’t something I need worry about now,” she muttered. Deborah snuggled beneath her covers and sighed. “Maybe I’ll just always remain a spinster.” She imagined herself earning her medical degree and spending the rest of her life alone. It was a daunting thought.

  Deborah tossed and turned, unable to find rest. She was about to give up and light a lamp to read by when the dogs began to raise a fuss. She crossed to the window to see what the trouble might be – probably nothing more than an old coon or hog.

  By the time she gazed out, the dogs had quieted. That isn’t typical, she thought. Usually once they were riled, they continued to bark until someone demanded they stop. The blackness below her revealed little, though, and Deborah turned to go back to her bed just as the sound of broken glass came from somewhere on the main floor.

  She pulled on her robe and got into her slippers. Making her way down the stairs, she saw that her mother was in the hallway. Lamplight revealed nothing immediately out of place.

  “What was that?” Deborah asked.

  Mother shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  Sissy and Lizzie were soon at her heel. “Did you hear glass break?” Lizzie asked.

  “I heard the dogs raise a ruckus and then the glass,” Deborah replied.

  Mother went to the door and opened it. She placed the lamp on a table behind the door, then tightened the belt on her robe. Peering outside for a moment, she stepped hesitantly onto the porch. The others followed suit.

  “I don’t hear anything,” she said, turning to Deborah. “Do you?”

  Deborah looked around and walked to the end of the porch. “Nothing.”

  “What’s that? Is someone in the barn?” Lizzie questioned. “I see a . . . ” She gasped. “Fire!”

  Mother turned to follow her gaze. “Deborah, come help me.” They rushed across the yard to the open barn door.

  Inside, Deborah could see where someone had ignited straw in the corner of the empty front stall. She hurried to where a bucket of water sat. The fire had barely started, and she hoped to douse it before the flames could spread.

  Mother followed right behind with a horse blanket. Together, they contained the fire with minimal damage to the area. Lizzie had come to the door with a lantern. With its soft glow, they surveyed the barn. Everything appeared normal.

  The smell of burned straw was enough to drive them all back out into the fresh air. Deborah looked at her mother through smokeblurred eyes. She spoke the words they were all, no doubt, thinking. “Someone means to harm us.”

  “Someone,” Mother replied. “But who?”

  Deborah looked around for Jasper and Lula. She called for them, but they didn’t come. “You don’t suppose they ran off after whoever it was?”

  Mother glanced around the yard. “I don’t think they would have gone. You know how protective they are – especially at night.”

  Deborah motioned Lizzie to bring the lamp. “Maybe they’re hiding in the barn. Could be they were frightened by the fire.” They walked back into the haze and began to search the stalls. Fortunately, Dottie and Dorothy had been turned out to graze in the fenced pen to the north of the house. Since G.W. had taken the remaining horses, the barn was empty of life.

  Moving to the far end of the barn, Deborah could see the carriage door was open. She hurried forward and Lizzie followed on her heels.

  “Oh no,” she moaned and fell to her knees. She touched Jasper’s lifeless body. Lula lay just a few feet away, a pitchfork planted through her body. From the pooled blood around their heads, it was clear that someone had slit their throats.

  “They killed them,” Deborah said, a sob catching in her throat. “Someone has killed them both.”

  CHAPTER 27

  In the humid dampness of the morning, Deborah wept and dug graves for the family dogs. She had heard the commotion that signaled her brother’s return to the homestead, but continued to focus on the task at hand. She wanted to be alone with her grief, but it wasn’t to be. In silence, Jake Wythe appeared. To her surprise he said nothing, but came up and took the shovel from her hands and began to make much faster progress.

  Deborah carefully wrapped each of the dogs in an old bed sheet and squatted down beside their bodies. She buried her face against her knees and let out all the pent-up pain she held. She’d cried through much of the night and knew she looked a sight, but she didn’t care. Someone’s heartless ugliness had ripped away another piece of her comfort and security.

  It wasn’t long before Jake put the shovel aside and came to get the dogs. Deborah tried her best to regain control of her emotions. She stood and watched in silence as the graves were filled first with the bodies of the animals and then dirt. It was only after the burial was complete that Jake turned to look at her.

  “I’m sorry we weren’t here to stop this, but I promise you I’ll find out who’s responsible and see they pay.”

  She shook her head. “I wouldn’t want you to get hurt. There’s no way of telling who did this – it was dark and we didn’t see anyone.”

  “There are always ways to learn the truth,” he told her.

  “Why should I expect to learn who killed my dogs, when we can’t even figure out who murdered George and David?” Her anger seemed to boil over. “I can’t believe how backward this part of the world can be. Folks will probably rise up in arms over the death of two hounds. I can just picture it now: Someone will probab
ly form a posse to hunt the monsters down.”

  Coming to where she stood, Jake shook his head. “I’m so sorry, Deborah.”

  The gentle way he spoke her name caused Deborah to calm and dissolve in tears once again. She didn’t try to hide her grief from him, nor did she push him away when he took her in his arms. He did nothing untoward; he simply let her cry. Yet despite his tenderness, Deborah wished it was Christopher’s arms around her. She couldn’t help but remember how she’d held Christopher and let him mourn the sorrow of his family’s troubles not so long ago.

  And then he left me.

  “You’ll make yourself sick if you keep goin’ on like this,” Jake said softly.

  Deborah pulled away. “I am sick. Sick at heart. I don’t understand why this happened. I cannot comprehend the heart of a man who acts in such a way – to kill people and animals.” She wiped at her tears with the back of her sleeve before continuing.

  “I don’t understand why God has allowed this to happen.” She knew she spoke of far more than just the deaths of Jasper and Lula. Why had God allowed her to lose her heart to Christopher and then taken him away from her? Why had the hurricane been allowed to wreak havoc all along the coast? Why had the mill burned down?

  “I want answers.” She looked at Jake, knowing he would have no solutions. Deborah turned to leave, but Jake took hold of her arm.

  “Sometimes we don’t get answers,” he told her. “Leastwise we don’t understand the answers.”

  Deborah knew his words were true, but they offered no solace. She looked at him hard for a moment, then relaxed. “I know you’re right, but it hurts just the same.”

  She headed back to the house, aware that Jake followed just a few steps behind. Once she reached the back door, she opened it and stood to one side and glanced at the ground. “Thank you for your help with the dogs.”